There was no playtime for Hezz, whose big, open, boyish face had grown old and anxious-looking; but he always had a smile and a look of welcome for Lance whenever he went down, and rushed off to get the boat ready for a fishing trip somewhere or another.
But these were not pleasure excursions, for as soon as the boat was pushed off the two lads tugged at the oars or set the sail to run off to some well-known fishing ground, where they worked away in a grim earnest way to get together a good maund of fish, a part of which was always sold up at the "big house," and at a good price too.
As for the women, they worked hard in their patches of garden, or went out in couples to bait and lay the lobster pots, or set the trammel nets, sometimes successfully, more often to come back empty; but somehow they managed to live and toil on patiently with a kind of hopeful feeling that one day things would mend.
"Ever see any of the French smugglers now, Hezz?" said Lance to him one day.
The boy's eyes flashed, and he knit his brows.
"No," he said, in a deep growl, for there had been no squeak in his voice since the night of the fight; the last boyish sound broke right away in that struggle, and he seemed to have suddenly developed into a man. "No," he said, "nor don't want to. If it hadn't been for them the old man and Billy and t'others would ha' been at home, 'stead o' wandering the wide world over."
"Have you any idea where they are, Hezz?"
The lad looked at him fiercely.
"Want to get 'em took?" he growled.
"Of course," said Lance, smiling. "Just the sort of thing I should do."
"Well, I didn't know," said Hezz.
"Yes, you did," cried Lance. "Want me to kick you for telling a lie?"
"Well, you're a young gent, and young gents do such things. Look at your cousin."
"Now, just you apologise for what you said, or I'll pitch into you, Hezz," cried Lance. "Now then: is that the sort of thing I should do if I knew where the old man and the rest were?"
"No," said Hezz, grinning, "not you."
"Then just you apologise at once."
"Beg your pardon, grant your grace, wish I may die if I do so any more. That do?"
"Yes, that'll do. Now tell me where they are, just to show me you do trust me."
"Tell you in a minute, Master Lance," cried the lad earnestly, "but I don't know a bit. We did hear from a Falmouth boat as some un' had sin 'em up Middlesbro' way after the herrin'; but that's all, and p'raps they're all drownded. I say, I'll tell you something, though. What d'yer think my old woman said about your mother?"
"I don't know. What did she say?"
"Said she was just a hangel, and she didn't know what she should ha' done all through the stormy time if it hadn't been for her."
"Oh, bother! I didn't want to hear about that," said Lance hurriedly.
"But you ought to hear, and so I telled you. I say, what's gone of your cousin?"
"Never you mind. What is it to you?" said Lance roughly. "You don't want to see him again."
"Nay, I don't want to see him, Master Lance, 'cause I might feel tempted like; and I don't want to run again' him, it might make me feel mad."
"Ah, well, you won't feel mad, Hezz, for he is never likely to come back here again. He's at a big school place, and going to college soon."
"Well, I'm glad he isn't likely to come; not as I should fly out at him, but Billy's wife right down hates him, and there's the other women do too, for getting their lads sent away. You see they've the little uns to keep; and Billy's wife says to me, on'y las' Sunday as we come back along the cliffs from church with the little gal, 'Hezz,' she says, and she burst out crying, 'it's like being a lone widow with her man drowned in a storm, and it's cruel, cruel hard to bear.'"
"And what did you say, Hezz?"
"Nothin', Master Lance. Couldn't say nothing. Made me feel choky and as if my voice was goin' to break agen; so I give her luttle gal a pigaback home, and that seemed to do Billy's wife good. Hah, I should like to see our old man home agen, for it's hard work to comfort mother sometimes when I come back without my fish, and she shakes her head at me and says, 'Ah, if your father had been here!'"
"Poor old lady!" said Lance.
"You see, it's when she's hungry, Master Lance. She don't mean it, 'cause she knows well enough there was times and times when the old man come back with an empty maund; but then you see she'd got him, and now it's no fish and no him nayther.—No, I won't, Master Lance. I didn't say all that for you to be givin' me money agen."
"Well, I know that, stupid. It's my money, and I shall spend it how I like. It isn't to buy anything for you, but for you to give to the old woman."
"Nay, I won't take it. If you want to give it her, give it yourself. I arn't a beggar.—Yes, I am, Master Lance—about the hungriest beggar I ever see."
"You take that half-crown and give it to Mother Poltree, or I'll never speak to you again."
"No, I won't. You give it her."
"I can't, Hezz; she makes so much fuss about it, and kisses me, and then cries. Seems to do more harm than good."
"I won't take it," growled Hezz, "but you may shove the gashly thing in my pocket if you like.—Thankye for her, Master Lance; it arn't for me. And look here, mind, I've got it all chalked down in strokes behind my bedroom door, and me and Billy and the old man'll pay it all back agen some day."
"All right, Hezz," said Lance merrily. "You shall; so it's all so much saved up, and when you do pay it we'll buy a new boat, regular clinker-built, copper-fastened, and sail and mast."
"That we will, Master Lance," cried the lad eagerly. "One as can sail too, so's we can hold a rope astern and offer to give t'others a tow. I say, think the old man will ever come back?"
"I hope so, Hezz."
"Ay, that's what I do—hopes. Sent over the sea, I s'pose, if they did."
"Oh, don't talk about it, Hezz!" cried Lance bitterly. "Why didn't they be content with getting a living with the fish?"
Hezz made no reply, but trudged off to the long whitewashed cottage on the cliff, where as Lance watched he saw Mother Poltree come out and Hezz hand her the big silver coin with King George's head on one side.
The result was that the brawny old woman threw her apron over her face, tore it down again and looked down below, caught sight of the giver, and began to descend.
But Lance was too quick for her: he took flight and ran below the cliff, scrambling over the rocks, for it was low tide, and had a toilsome climb up a dangerous part so as to get back home.